Fallout: Big Easy
by Ted Empty
Summary: Life isn't easy floating on the flooded ruins of the Gulf Wasteland, but Tommy and Aaron Axton make the most of it as Rafters, trading and ferrying across the irradiated waters. But when an enigmatic agent from beyond the sea captures his brother and holds him as ransom, Tom is thrust directly into a world of madness and conspiracy unlike anything he's ever seen. Updates Mondays.
1. War Never Changes

War.

War never changes.

When the folly of a decadent race finally plunged the Earth into a baptism by fire, few realized what the world was to become.

Rather than reducing the world to another blackened cinder hurtling through the cosmos, the scouring heat of the atom bomb instead shifted the way things were culturally, morally, and biologically.

As those who had slumbered within the subterranean vaults constructed during the Old World's reign stumbled into the sun, they realized that their new surroundings were more than a flattened hell of radioactive dust.

For those living in the crude womb of America's south, life became a struggle against nature, leaving all resembling morality in the wind.

For those living along the beautiful Gulf of Mexico, life became a struggle against man, as boatmen forming the lifeline of re-emerging civilization battle scavengers wrought with greed.

For those living in the heart of great cities like New Orleans, life was as it was before. A struggle for power, pleasure, and profit on a stagnating and corrupt ladder.

And for those who are unaccounted for…?

All sorts of things sleep beneath the sea.

However, a new threat has emerged as slowly, nature intends on consuming what little its children have scrounged, as the looming and vicious jungles of the Foreverglades move inch by inch closer.

The hateful din of the Klansmen's Confederacy screeches ever outward from their ivory capital, as crosses of flame banish the so-called unworthy from a land marked by hate even after the Rapture had struck.

All these conflicts and more twist and writhe as beasts in a great swamp.

However, you are a Boatman. You and your brother have traveled on your raft for many years, peddling wares and ferrying travelers. But that will soon change.

The Gulf Wasteland is not a land of unity or respect, and it will soon fall on your shoulders to change that. But it will not be easy, child.

Because War?

War never changes.


	2. All Ashore

Chapter 1: All Ashore

A small, tinny noise blusters forth from a Radiation King radio.

"_Somewhe-e-e-e-ere, beyond the sea…"_

Slowly, the crooning is revealed to be emanating from a radio sat on the dash of a small ship's bridge.

"_Somewhe-e-e-e-ere, waiting for me-e-e…"_

The corpses of a damned crew slump uselessly over the railings, or lay on the deck cowered in their final moments.

"_My lover stands on golden sa-a-a-a-nds, watching the ships…"_

The small frigate is shown to be impaled on the rebar spines of a building's support structure, cables dangling from the hull.

"_Come sa-a-a-ailing in…"_

The ravaged skyscraper is then shown to be one many, piercing forth from the submerged streets. As more is shown, people are seen, shooting down at the water hoping to strike one of the explosive-lobbing rafts below.

As more and more of the gulf is seen, a squat and modest vessel is seen anchored to the sand beneath.

White leather shoes step with a small splash, standing on the water's surface as small lights flicker from their sides. A cigarette drops into the brine.

Click.

That's the first thing I heard, rousing me from my snooze. My eyes flicked open, my face damp from the small puddle of drool.

By the time I had felt the cold metal pressed against my neck's nape, I was already reaching for my pocket pistol.

"I'd rather you stay your hand, Mr. Axton. You as well, Mr. Axton."

My brother's glance met mine and I realized we'd both had the same instinctive idea to put a slug in the intruder. The voice that rang out was airy, sharp, nasal, and in an unfamiliarly pompous accent.

I rolled slightly to get a better glimpse at the intruder. A shaft of moonlight needled through the window of our cabin, loaning me a faint glow. The man was pale, and bald as a Nawleans cue. He wore shades, even though it was ass in the morning. As far as clothing went, he wore dresswear unlike any I'd ever seen.

As a Rafter, I'd seen all types over the years, and even the real self-styled High Rollers didn't have suits that clean.

No, it wasn't just clean or tidy. His suit was _pristine. _It was bright white, starkly reflecting the moon's cold light throughout our otherwise dank cabin.

The thin, impatient, and clean-shaven face began to contort with speech once more.

"Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Mr. Vernon."

Excellent. A condescending fucker. The type who doesn't seem to realize there aren't any celebrities out here. Some city-slicker, but not a Big Easy type.

My brother piped up.

"Who in _the fuck_ are you?"

Good old Aaron. He's Mr. Vernon, obviously.

"Such abrasive language. I'm here on the business of an audit, Mr. Axton. I do believe you've accrued quite a sizable debt, and I am here to ensure that the debt is payed."

Debt?

I mouthed the word silently at Aaron, who looked at me with confusion on his bearded face.

"I understand you may be confused, but I assure you that it's no folly of your own. There are crosses our forbearers hand down to us, you know."

Cryptic. The entire time he had been running his suck, I slowly edged for my letter opener. Maybe I could end this situation before things get too nasty.

With a swift dive and a downward swing, I had leapt from my bed with my sharp little friend in hand. The suited man moved like a snake, weaving away from my strike and with three swift strikes snapped my elbow backwards, disarmed me, and blew the wind out of me as I fell on the floor. Aaron yelled at some point, I truly don't recall.

My world exploded into a supernova of pain, unhelped by the shoe pressed into my face. The rat bastard looked down on me as I imagine the Presidents of the Old World looked at dog shit and continued.

"_As I was saying…_ you gentlemen are responsible for the payment of debt. One left to the sons of a father."

"What if we don't pay?" I sputtered weakly from the ground.

A small snort of a laugh.

"Well, my _friend_, I do think that is a somewhat valid concern. That is why you will be coming with me as incentive for Mr. Axton."

"No!" Aaron and I blurted out at the same time.

We locked eyes once more.

You may not understand this, but then again, you don't live on the wasteland. When someone has your back through all the trials of the world, when they would live and die for your sake and you echo them every step of the way, that is true friendship. Aaron is a square-assed tool with a pole through his gooch, and also the best man I have ever known. The fucker practically raised me, what with what happened to our parents when we were kids.

I don't care much for Pirates, let's say that.

Vernon checked his watch, a bored expression on his face.

"Listen, Vernon, man. Don't take Tommy. He doesn't deserve this. I dunno what my Pop did to make you come gunning for us, but he never had nothing to do with it!" Aaron pleaded.

"Hrm. Are you volunteering in his stead, Mr. Axton?"

"Yeah. I guess I am."

The suited man started to snicker.

"A fine development this is indeed! And one I hadn't counted on. Very well then. If the boy will be willing and able to complete the work, that may save you both yet. All right then. Oh, and Thomas?"

I glared at the usage of that name.

"You and I will rendezvous in Neversink, understand?" I nodded, still bitterly staring.

"Take this. It will be indispensable."

He dropped a midsized package bound in leather next to my head and stepped off of my face. I grabbed the package and by the time I had turned to face upwards I saw my brother's eyes widen as the slave collar clicked around his throat.

I had raised my pistol to fire at the no-longer-aiming bastard but by the time I did he (and Aaron) vanished into the air with a crackle of ozone. A Stealth Boy?

"Oh, and one more thing," the voice emanated from nowhere and everywhere, "this is for lunging at me with that _toothpick, Boy."_

I suddenly heard a thin, reedy beeping noise from where he was just standing. Grabbing the package and my satchel, I had barely leapt from the boat when the hidden mine detonated, blowing me into the air and plunging me into darkness.

"_Yo. You alive, man?"_

I suddenly lurched upward, vomiting water and sand as I blinked salt from my eyes, hearing a girl scream.

"_Guess he is."_

I rubbed my eyes slowly as I tried to get a feel for my surroundings. I was on a beach, judging by the sand and the sun and the ocean. I'd washed up on said shore after that _son of a fucker_ destroyed my boat and abducted my brother.

I was on my hands and knees, staring at the wet sand below me. I felt the strap of my satchel still wrapped around my shoulder, so I had apparently not parted company with it quite yet.

"Uh. Hey. Man. You need a hand or something_?"_

No, I was fine and fucking dandy, as I recall telling them.

The more girlish of the two voices spoke up, her voice clear and ringing, like the chime of a bell.

"_Of course he's not okay, dipshit. Just look at him!"_

"C'mon, Liv. No need to be nasty. Just wanted to see if he was kicking."

"_I'll show you nasty."_

"Liv, I'm flattered, but no thank yo-hey, stop, stop-"

Wiping some sandy foam from my mouth, I turned up to face my "rescuers". The morning sun reflected off the young guy's sweaty forehead, blacker than the ace of spades. A sandy blonde girl in a tank top and a blue jumpsuit wrapped around her waist was busy repeatedly socking her compatriot in the arm.

"Hey. Yo. Lovebirds. Drowned over here," I called.

"_Oh, woah, sorry. Hey there, dude."_

"Hey," I muttered. I already found these two grating. The girl obviously gave nary a shit about anything and the ineffectual black kid just looked, I don't know, awkward. Guy was easily six seven and built but he just fumbled every step, every way.

"Listen, guys. Thanks for pulling me out of the water and everything, but –"

"_We didn't pull you out of the water, dude," _Liv cut me off, "_you washed up on shore like a bag of trash. Leon here gave you mouth to mouth."_

The kid and I looked at each other, and I raised an eyebrow as he visibly shrank back in disgust, or embarrassment.

"Liv. Liv stop. "

I waved my hand, in my attempt to dispel the weirdness.

"Everybody shut the fuck up. Can you guys tell me where I am?"

They looked at each other, and then back down to me. The guy was, as mentioned prior, tall and broad. A man built like a mutie, his eyes behind thick-lensed glasses. He wore a simple and tarnished pre-War outfit, as most Salvagers are prone to do. The girl on the other hand, well, she was a bit more pleasing to look at.

Sandy blonde, with a filthy tank top over and what looked like half of a Vault jumper, the top half wrapped around her waist. She wore sunglasses, and a sunhat, and a sunburn, and a sunny personality. The kind that makes your skin peel. And then gives you the big C.

They both looked at me like I was insane.

"_You, my man, are within about half an hour's walk of lovely Flotsam, located right here in sunny What's Left of Florida, U.S.A. I'm Liv Lewis, and that nerd is Leon P. Dickspit."_

"HEY. It's Willis, by the way."

"_We're beachcombers. We run around pulling trash off the beaches, so we can hawk it to those traders up from Miami ways. Looks like the catch of the day is a half-drowned waster. Whose name is…?"_

Oh, so these two were beach rats? That explains…rather a lot.

"Tommy."

"_Tommy who?"_

"Tommy."

She gave an exaggerated shrug.

"So, uh, Tommy," Leon spoke up, "Is there any particular reason you…y'know…washed up here?"

I grit my teeth thinking about what had just occurred. I could barely remember myself.

"I'm a rafter. Was a rafter. Some asshole got onto my brother and I's boat, kidnapped him, and blew it up."

"Shit, man. Hey, dude you're kinda-"

"_That explains why your leg's all fucked up," _Liv interjected.

"What?"

I looked down at my legs. Oh. Have you ever cut yourself and not noticed until after you had gotten home? Like after falling off of a bike or something? It was like that, but there was a six-inch ribbon of metal sticking out of my right calf. The same calf with a shiny new ninety-degree bend in it.

I was suddenly very aware of a great deal of pain.

"Woah. That's…pretty…unfortunate…"

My head smacked back into the wet sand, and I was out like a damp cigarette.

[A/N]

Hey there, I'm Ted Empty and here's the first chapter of my brand-new Fallout fanfic, Fallout: Big Easy! This is a kind of combination of things and fanons, taking place in a mostly unexplored region of the post-apocalyptic U.S.A. and it will feature a wide variety of fanon content from a wide variety of sources.

Big thanks to OvaltinePatrol and Tranquility Lane, the Fallout Fanon wiki. Go check out their content! Lots of great stuff there.

I will be using a wide variety of musical references for each chapter name. If you think of stuff that would be good for the Gulf Coast setting, either on the more standard-yet-oceanic -themed Miami music channels or in the jazztastic New Orleans music circuit, feel free to PM me with stuff for the soundtrack!


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